


Waking Nightmare

by HeartyMedusa



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Abuse, Drug Withdrawal, F/M, Psychological Torture, Violence, Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:25:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3559436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartyMedusa/pseuds/HeartyMedusa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, as we all know, Cullen suffered from lyrium withdrawal. Well, this is what happens in the midst of one of his episodes.<br/>Just a little one-shot. </p><p>"The effects of lyrium addiction for Templars include paranoia, obsession, and dementia.[3] Over time, Templars grow disoriented, incapable of distinguishing memory from present, or dream from waking. They frequently become paranoid as their worst memories and nightmares haunt their waking hours." (http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Lyrium)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking Nightmare

He was so cold.

He was cold and frozen in place. At least, thankfully, the demon had been kind enough to allow him to sit.

It wasn't always so kind.

It walked around him slowly, its hand just barely a breath away from touching him. He made sure to breathe as shallowly as possible to eliminate the chance of his rising chest brushing its finger tips. It didn't matter to him that he was still dressed in his armor.

 _You wound me, my love,_ it’s voiced whispered across his mind- echoing grotesquely in his mind. It ran its cold fingers across his cheek. _Take your armor off,_ it commanded, moving its fingers to his hair.

“No,” he stated, very matter-of-factly. “It’s too cold to be without armor.”

It tsked as him and pulled lightly at his hair. _No it isn’t, my love. It’s positively blazing hot,_ it murmured across his mind. And, to his astonishment, he realized that he was, indeed, positively drenched in sweat- hot beyond belief. _Take off your armor,_ it repeated.

"No," he ground out through clenched teeth. The echoes of its demand continued through his mind. It stepped away as he collapsed on his knees in front of his chair. "No... _please_ ," he whimpered as he felt his will slowly slipping away.

It stepped back far enough to allow him to strip out of his armor- tears streaming helplessly from his eyes. He didn’t want to take off his armor…but…somewhere in his mind…he did. When all he was left in was his smalls, the demon stepped back to him and ran her hand up his bare chest. _Good boy,_ it hissed in his mind as it moved her hand to his bare arm.

 ** _Fight this, Cullen!_** a voice that was not the demon hissed in his mind. He clenched his teeth as he gathered his will.

He was no longer a young recruit.

He was no longer in the circle.

He was no longer a Templar.

He snapped his arm away from the demon's touch and wrapped his hand around its throat. He was more than a little pleased to hear its whimper of pain.

"You cannot control me, demon," he growled, shoving his face close to its own. "I am stronger than you. You have no power here."

Despite being in a poor position, it whispered, _And, yet, here you stand in nothing but your smalls, my love,_ as it wrapped its hands around the wrist of the hand holding its throat.

"Shut up!" he shouted, lifting it from its feet. "Stay out of my mind! You can't break me!" His grip tightened enough that its feet tried to kick at him- to hopefully break his grip.

He walked the demon to the wall and slammed it against it. With his free hand, he gripped its chin and got into its face. "You have no power here," he repeated.

The demon stared at him with wide eyes before its image changed to that of Evelyn. He pulled his hand from its chin and shook his head. "No...I won't let you break me!"

"Cullen," it whimpered. It was frightening how spot on it sounded to his beautiful Inquisitor.

"Using her face will not spare you, demon!" he snarled, lifting it further from the floor.

She looked around frantically. "Please, Cullen, it's me- it's Evelyn. Um...you're the commander of the Inquisition forces, you play chess with Dorian every Monday after the morning chant if he's here at Skyhold...um...you're...." She locked eyes with him. "Cullen, you're in lyrium withdrawal. You're having a nightmare.”

He stared at her… _it_ …thinking about the words that the supposed Evelyn was spouting. Her blue eyes were so very close to expelling the tears that were building up in them. She held onto his wrist with everything she had.

There was a possibility that she was really Evelyn and his lyrium craving gave him a blasted nightmare. If that was the case….

“Cullen,” she whispered, the tears finally breaking.

Cullen lowered Evelyn to the ground before crushing her to his chest in a hug. He felt her quiver as her tears fell to his bare chest.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing kisses onto the top of her head, running his hands shakily through her hair. “I’m so sorry.”

As she began peppering his chest with light kisses, he stepped away from her and surveyed the damage that he had done. What he saw made his heart plummet to the pit of his stomach.

She had an impression of his hand around her throat…and it was beginning to bruise.

He had harmed the Inquisitor.

He had harmed the woman he loved.

She stepped towards him. “Cullen-“

“No,” he insisted, retreating from her. “I…I need to resign…you have to leave.”

Shaking her head, she approached him slowly. “No. Let’s get you dressed and you can come to my chamber. I’ll have a hot bath readied for you and a couple of glasses of brew- whatever kind, you can pick.”

He hung his head in defeat as she made her way to gather some light clothes for him.

He hoped this would be the last time her laid a hand on the Inquisitor in aggression.

Somehow he doubted it…so long as he was in lyrium withdrawal.


End file.
